


The Future

by LittleSpacePrince



Series: To Build a Home [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Tony, Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Bruce, Omega Bruce Banner, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 02:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14125788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpacePrince/pseuds/LittleSpacePrince
Summary: Prompt:"Please," they whispered as a tear ran down their cheek.In which there's a happy ending.





	The Future

The Future

 _The waters now are calm and clear,_  
_My life again is full of cheer,_  
_Smiles return and with them light,_  
_The grey is replaced by colours so bright,_  
_Though life was cruel, when it took you away,_  
_I look to the future as a brand new day_

 

“Patrick, get back here.” Tony chuckled, chasing after the little boy who still ran on unsteady legs. Seven years old and it was like he had never been anything other than their son. It was never any secret that he was adopted, the kids picking up fast that Patrick looked a bit different than the other two. But nonetheless, he was theirs, and he was loved. 

First came Axel. He was quieter than the others, but a leader, too. He’d taken after Tony, enough snark to compete with his father, even at seven years old. He was smart, and he knew it damn well, had soared past his peers almost immediately. He supposed that having two of the world’s most renowned scientists as parents could’ve helped in that area. He’d taken after his father’s love for mechanics, would tinker whenever he was allowed, and would find ways to tinker when he was not. He was a little more to himself than Tony was, though. He preferred his books to most people, save for his family. And Shuri, and Peter. Uncle Peter and Aunt Shuri had quickly become favorites to all of their kids, but Axel absolutely adored them, perhaps more than anyone else, because he knew that neither one of them would ever stop him from tinkering and building, even if it wasn’t exactly _safe._

Then came Aileen. She had taken after Bruce in most every aspect. Looked just like him, acted just like him. They suspected that she might be on the autism spectrum, too, just like her father. She was quiet around anyone new, but after about five minutes, she would be up your ass with whatever fixation took her interest that week. She would learn all that she could about any given subject, wouldn’t shut up about it for more than five minutes at a time. This week was the Challenger Shuttle disaster. She had heard about the anniversary of it on the news, and had found herself buried in every article about it, reciting every fact she could find about it. 

And then there was Patrick. Patrick was smaller than the others, and didn’t quite take after his siblings’ love for science and math. But he was still theirs, undoubtedly and undeniably theirs. He got as starry-eyed as his brother and sister when they went to the Stark Expo every year, rode on Tony’s shoulders just like the others, ran around and wrestled and played with the rest of them. He was gifted in his own ways, perhaps more than the others. Where his brother and sister found ease and interest in science, he found it in art. A little artist, and a little musician, effortlessly picking up on anything that required the creative half of his brain. Brilliant in English and reading, like a savant with a paintbrush. They’d certainly raised three magnificent kids, that was damn certain. 

Bruce found pride in them every single day. 

Tony hoisted him up into his arms, swinging him around until a loud laugh echoed through the front yard, followed by a second as he was brought to his knees by a particularly rambunctious young girl as Bruce watched from the porch steps. Axel sat on his knees next to him, nose buried in a book well above his grade level as his brother and sister ran around in the yard. It was quiet. It was peaceful. It was home. 

It was a modest little home, by all appearances. Perhaps a little too decked out on the inside, the tech maybe a little too much for such a humble little home. But they'd quickly learned that it wasn't the house that mattered. It wasn't the walls or the floorboards or the windows. It wasn’t about how much or how little tech existed inside, or how mismatched it might have looked. It was the memories that were formed within them. And boy, were there memories. 

Memories made. Memories to be made. Tears cried and laughs shared and epiphanies found in silence. Life had blossomed here. Something like extraordinary normalcy was found within those four walls. Something beyond the pain and the suffering that they had known for so long. Life with three brilliant children, life with home cooked meals and cozy nights spent in front of the television and mornings spent with three excitable kids hopping into their bed. It was wonderfully normal, and it was all that Bruce had ever wanted. 

His mind began to wander again when he heard the phone ring from inside the house. He rose quickly to his feet, darting inside to grab it. 

“Hel-”

“His water broke.” Bucky Barnes spat out before Bruce could even register what was happening. In the background rang out a scream, agonized in his labor. “Rogers! You have been through war, man! Your pain tolerance is higher than this, so please, I beg of you, be quiet for two minutes.” 

“Talk to me about pain tolerance when a watermelon is trying to claw its way out of your asshole, you fucking- _GAH!”_ Steve shot back from the background, letting out a sharp cry before settling. “I may be pregnant, but I can still kick your fucking ass.”

“Both of you, shut up. When did labor start? How far apart are his contractions?” Bruce inquired quickly, slipping back into doctor mode as he gathered his things with his free hand. Shoes, jacket, medical bag... 

“I don't know, I don't know, his water broke like ten minutes ago. I don't…” Bucky rambled, and Bruce could almost hear him pacing the floor. 

“I need you to check his dilation. He was already a centimeter last week, this is probably going to be a short labor. I need you to make sure that he’s gonna have time for me to get there.”

“Alright, I-”

“Don't you _dare_ stick those cold ass fingers up my ass, or I swear to god-” He could hear Steve bark. 

“Screw it, listen, I'm on my way. Just keep him comfortable until I get there. Just hold him off for about an hour, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Bruce groaned before hanging up the phone and quickly getting to work. There was no time to waste. 

Bruce found that he much preferred being a doctor than an Avenger, so that was where his attentions had been diverted. Whenever the Avengers had a mission, Bruce was the one to fix them up, heal their wounds. And a year earlier, he had been informed of Steve and Bucky’s intentions of having a child. Bruce had helped them along the way, from conception to, now, birth. And it was precisely what he was meant to be doing. He wasn't a hero, never had been. The beast within him was more of a time bomb than anything. But a lab coat and a stethoscope were where he could truly play the hero. 

Bruce tossed his things into a bag before darting out the door, finding his family right where the had been. Almost picture perfect. No such thing, of course, not with green afflictions and PTSD, but Bruce was pretty damn sure that this was as close as it got. It was everything that he had ever wanted, and even more than that. 

“Steve's in labor, I gotta go. Call Shuri, see if she can take the kids for awhile, and meet me down at the compound.” Bruce explained hastily, pecking Tony’s lips goodbye before hurrying to his car. “Love you.”

 

\----

 

Bruce knew that leaving Shuri alone with the kids was a bad idea. It always was. But she was always the first to volunteer, and Bruce had come to see her like a daughter of his own, so he let her. Of course, he always regretted it in the aftermath, after getting the kids in and out of the bath, after cleaning whatever remnants of science experiments stayed in chunks on the walls. He always told himself, never again, but he always changed his mind by morning. 

Tony had put the kids to bed, and Bruce had started working on cleaning up the remnants of an experiment gone wrong, leaving something mysteriously green clinging to the walls. It had been a mess to come home to, certainly not what he'd wanted to find after such a long day, but nonetheless, it was the life they had chosen, the life they had fallen in love with, and Bruce was more than prepared to clean up a kitchen every now and again. 

Steve's labor and delivery had gone smoothly, quickly, leaving the couple with a baby girl to adore. It had been nothing like his own. No complications, no fears, nothing wrong. It all went perfectly according to plan, and strange and scary as it was, it truly had been something beautiful to behold. Watching two become three, watching a new family welcome its newest addition, beholding the look of absolute adoration on the face of her fathers… 

Maybe seeing it was what sold him to the idea. Seeing Steve meet his daughter for the first time, watching as she quieted at the first touch of her father. It was something that had been nagging at him for a long time, twitching at the corners of his mind whenever he walked past the baby pictures that hung on the walls, whenever he saw Steve and Bucky’s excitement at their growing family… He’d sworn it off, decided that it was a wild and stupid thing to think, but it nagged at him until he could no longer hold it in.

“What the hell is this stuff?” Tony inquired as he stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a pair of gloves before he joined the omega in the effort. 

“Don’t know. Not sure if I want to know.” Bruce chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been covered in enough fluids today, though. I don’t think I needed this too.” 

“Go take a shower. I can handle it from here.” Tony said, creeping behind him and wrapping his arms tight around his torso. “And I’m pretty sure that Shuri tuckered out all three of the kids so… Don’t bother getting dressed once you get out.” 

Bruce laughed, and obeyed.

 

\----

 

He fell back onto his back the moment Tony’s knot deflated, letting out a sigh in relief as he felt the warm gush of semen spill onto the mattress from between his thighs. He collapsed, boneless, letting out a long, low sigh as they came down from the thrill of sex and knotting. Tony was already half asleep, though there was something that wouldn’t quite let the doctor sleep just yet. He reached over, nudging the alpha with the back of his hand, not daring to look him in the face, knowing that he might lose his nerve if he did. But he was through with losing his nerve. 

“I want another baby.” Bruce confessed. 

There was silence, then the sound of Tony shifting toward him. Bruce almost didn’t dare look back, for fear of what he might find, but he finally turned his eyes and caught glimpse of the big brown eyes staring back at him. There was no anger there, no disappointment. Maybe a hint of confusion, but nothing more. 

“We’ve already got triplets, Bruce, I don’t know if we can handle a baby on top of those three.” Tony reasoned, brushing a hand through his curls, pressing a small kiss against his forehead. 

“Since when is there anything that we can’t handle?” He turned over onto his side, facing his alpha, taking comfort in his touch. “We handled losing one, adopting another, raising three wild kids. We’ve saved the world on how many occasions again? I think we can handle another kid.” 

Tony gave a small smile, letting out a small chuckle. “Since when have you wanted another baby? When did this happen?” He queried. 

“Few months, maybe? Around when Bucky and Steve started trying for a baby, I think. The kids aren't so little anymore, and god knows they're independent as all hell. I just… It’s like I blinked and they're all grown up. And I'm not gonna be able to carry much longer.” Bruce explained, musing, losing himself in his thoughts. “I just… I really want another one while I can still have one.” 

Tony pressed his head against his chest. He had to admit, he did miss those days of Bruce's pregnancy. Secrets shared between sheets in the early days, the gentle swell of his belly, feeling them moving and kicking within him, and then there was the sex - _oh god,_ the sex. He missed the days before they could talk, missed the days when they were still just babies, dependent upon them for everything. He missed cradling them in his arms, falling asleep with them on his chest. Maybe they _could_ handle another… 

Tony rose to his feet and headed toward the bathroom, rummaging through the cabinets as Bruce scooted down to the foot of the bed, watching in curiosity. The alpha grabbed a bottle of pills - his heat suppressors, the pills he'd taken every day for seven years - and walked them toward the toilet before turning to the omega. “Cool if I flush these?”

“By all means.” Bruce laughed, gesturing for him to do it. Take the plunge and don't look back. He let out a small cry in victory, cheering him on as he poured the entirety of its contents into the bowl, hearing them splash as they hit the water. He laughed as Tony raised his fists in triumph before flushing the down the drain, smiling as the alpha came closer, pushing him down onto the bed, stealing a kiss. His thigh settled between the omega’s legs, rubbing up against him as he threatened to harden again. 

“Let’s get you into heat, then. Let's make a baby.”

 

\----

 

“Call Shuri.” Bruce mumbled, barely awake, and hardly coherent. 

“Hmm?” Tony hummed, drugged with sleep. 

He was confused, at least for a minute, before the scent hit him and it all became clear, forcing him into alertness. Sweet and warm and wet and suffocating, Tony’s chest heaving hard as his eyes shot open, feeling its immediate effects on his body. He rolled over, feeling his erection begin to form as he wrapped an arm around Bruce, letting himself drown in the old familiar scent. One that he could catch a thousand times and still be shocked by it, one he could go a thousand years without catching and still remember it.

 _Heat._

It had been years since he'd last gone into heat, but he hadn't forgotten any of it. The throbbing need, the pounding ache, the slick leaking between his thighs. The intensity of him struck him hard, pulling him under, drowning him in it as his brain succumbed to its fog. He gasped at Tony touched him, body responding with a fresh bout of slick wetting his hole. 

“Go. Call Shuri. Get the kids ready to go. Make sure they're ready, make sure they've got everything. Then hurry back. I'll hold myself over until you get back, but I can't do it like this.” Bruce pleaded, clinging to any rationality that was left in him. The Big Three always came first. Above his needs, above his wants, he had to make sure that they were taken care of. “Now _go._ Before you start rutting.” 

“Little late.” Tony growled, pressing his throbbing length against his omega's thigh. 

It had been nearly two months since going off his suppressants, just long enough that they began to wonder if Bruce would ever go back into heat, or if he was past his fertile years. If he could no longer carry a child. But then he'd felt the familiar tug in the pit of his belly, the initial gush of slick, the thick scent clouding the air, and he knew. 

“They won't be up for awhile. I'll call her soon, but right now, I _need_ to be inside of you.” Tony said, pulling himself over top of the omega, pulling his legs apart and his shorts down before slipping two digits past his leaking rim without a second of hesitation. Bruce let out a sharp cry at the intrusion, feeling his hole twitch and convulse, as if trying to devour him, aching for more. Aching for another finger, aching for his cock, aching for his knot… 

“Yeah, good plan.” Bruce agreed, damning sanity and damning the consequences as he pushed harder against Tony’s fingers as they began to pump, grazing against his prostate until he was whimpering. He let out a sharp cry as Tony’s fingers became more focused, more intent as he scissored him open. He struggled to catch his breath as Tony plowed him further into the bed, working him open with fingers alone, leaving him a moaning, weeping mess. 

_“Quiet down, omega.”_ Tony hushed before pressing his free hand over his mouth, making certain that the unrestrained, uncontrollable sounds were at least muffled enough not to wake the children. “What did I say when they were first born? You gotta stop being so noisy in bed, there are _children._ You've had seven years, Banner. And you're still a noisy little cockslut who can't keep his mouth shut.” 

Bruce considered biting his hand in defiance, knowing that it was merely teasing but not much caring. He decided against it, though, opting to savor in the incessant torture of the nub tucked away just inside of him. What an obscene sight, the muffled cries of an omega whose alpha had yet to even sink into him. How filthy, how magnificent. 

This was his favorite kind of sex. Rough and needy, drowning in their own pheromones. In heat, baby-making sex. It was intoxicating, addictive, leaving him begging and moaning and pleading for his alpha’s knot without reservation. Not to mention that there was something all so arousing about sex with the expressed purpose of getting him pregnant, something about insemination and impregnation that made Bruce squirm with need. Maybe somewhere between biological instinct and a kink, he decided. 

“Inside.” Bruce said, muffled beneath Tony’s palm. 

Tony didn't tease. He didn't torture, knowing two things. One, Bruce was in heat, and he was in rut, and neither of them would be able to keep up with any sort of foreplay for long. And two, they had triplets that certainly wouldn’t be asleep all that much longer, certainly not long enough for him to play as long as he would’ve usually liked. Instead, he reached between his own legs, freeing his own cock before lining himself with the omega’s weeping hole. He circled the rim with the head of his cock once, twice, three times before giving a solid push and sinking in to the hilt. 

Bruce let out a sigh, head thrown back in his pleasure, eyes drifting closed as Tony began to thrust, sating every need as he whimpered into his hand. Each thrust was pointed, sharp, knowing precisely where to hit, leaving him squirming in his pleasure. He could hear Tony let out a low, possessive growl, pushing him further into the bed as his hips picked up speed, drawing sharp cries from his throat, muffled only by the skin of his palm. Tony pulled away his hand, moving both hands to his hips, slamming them against the mattress as he furthered his control, leaving his fingers gripping tightly to sheets and his cock leaking fluid over his belly. 

“Want my knot, baby?” Tony breathed against his ear, drawing a small whine against pursed lips, trying desperately to stay quiet as he buried his face into the crook of his alpha’s shoulder. “Want me to pop my knot inside of you and fill you with my come?” 

Tony’s hand moved from his hip and over his cock, gripping tightly and stroking fast. Bruce couldn’t _breathe,_ the sensation all too overwhelming. Fingers sweeping over the head of his weeping cock in time with the thrust of his hips, the filthy words tumbling from Tony’s lips, it was enough to drive him mad, leaving him gasping for air. 

“Such a good omega… Carried my litter, and now you want to carry another one. The perfect omega, you are.” Tony said, slamming just against his prostate, drawing a sharp cry from his lips, to a point where he no longer even cared whether or not they were heard. “You’re gonna wake up the kids if you don’t quiet down. Wake them up with your moans and your screams. Some things never change, do they?” 

_“Alpha, please.”_ Bruce choked out, tears welling in his eyes, choking on his breath. His thighs were wet with slick, dripping onto the sheets as he squirmed, shifting, grinding, kicking, anything to appease the ache faster. Anything to be knotted sooner. Anything to feel the warm burst of seed filling his belly. 

“Keep your legs up.” Tony commanded, caring, stern, fingers pressing bruises into his thighs as he raised them high and spread them apart, staring down at the masterpiece spread out before him. Skin flush and sheen with sweat and slick, curls pressed to his forehead, head thrown to the side, fingers curled tight around the sheets. Stunning. 

He lost himself in the haze of heat and rut, until the movement ceased in his mind and there was nothing more than waves of pleasure and the impending tug of Tony’s knot. He whimpered quietly, until tears were streaking down his face, but they were not tears of pain. They were tears forced to his eyes in the overstimulation and the flood of sensation that washed over him. He threw his head back, gasping for air, struggling to keep himself hooked to reality, threatening to drift away. 

“Want me to fill you up, baby? Want me to make your belly swell with my litter again? You know, you were insatiable during your first pregnancy. All of those hormones made you horny all the time. Is that what you want me to do to you again?” He breathed, leaning down over top of him, making sure that the omega’s ankles were hooked behind his back as he began to thrust more roughly. He could feel Bruce trembling beneath him, the omega’s body nearing its orgasm, pulling Tony’s along with it. Bruce Banner, the doctor, the hero, the Incredible Hulk, was beneath him, begging to be bred, trembling and whimpering as he struggled to hold himself together. So Tony did what he’d always done, ever since first meeting him. He poked. He prodded, he provoked. “You want me to pump you full of my seed, fill you with my brood? Knock you up and make you beg for my cock, day in and day out? Is that what you want, omega?” 

_“Please,”_ He whimpered as a tear ran down his cheek, overwhelming him in floods as his body trembled with the force of his need, so close to his orgasm, teetering on the brink but unable to fall. “Want… Want you to… Want you to… _Please breed me Tony.”_ He was incoherent, unable to see past breeding and sex and his own insemination. He needed it like he needed water, needed it like he needed oxygen, oh god, he needed it. 

With his pleas, Bruce came hard, seed splattering hot and sticky between their bellies. The rhythmic contractions of his hole massaged against Tony’s swollen knot, finally provoking him to latch and knot, coming hard with a shuddered gasp. Bruce trembled at the force of it, feeling the damp heat fill his belly, semen spraying hot against his cervix, sperm already pushing its way into his uterus, racing toward his ready and waiting egg. He collapsed boneless beneath him, letting out a low sigh, reveling in the afterglow of his knotting and impregnation. 

“What are you guys doing?” 

Bruce jumped hard, scrambling for cover at the sound of his son’s voice, but the configuration was awkward, leaving the two of them exposed and struggling for the safety of blankets. 

“Nothing, we’re not-” Bruce stammered.

“We’re just, uh-” Tony stuttered, scrambling for an excuse but finding none suitable for a seven year old.

Axel had a bad habit of picking locks. Even the magnetic ones that he had installed, ones that couldn’t be unlocked without vocal recognition, didn’t hold him back anymore. Suddenly, Bruce was really regretting buying him that toolbox for his birthday. That screwdriver knew how to take down all of the AI in the house, and that was exactly what it did. 

They struggled beneath the blankets, struggling to turn and face him, knot tugging hard at Bruce’s rim, leaving him oversensitized and aching as he struggled to hide his discomfort until they found some awkward position on their sides to face their eldest son. They hid their indecency the best that they could, but Bruce was damn certain that he’d gotten at least a quick glance at his father’s ass before they’d managed to get everything hidden.

“Wh-what are you doing, uh, what are you doing up so early, kiddo?” Tony stammered out, trying to hold some facade of normalcy, though it was pretty obvious what they were doing. 

“Heard dad yelling.” Axel said, pointing toward a particularly guilty-looking omega. “What are you guys doing?” 

“I, uh…” Bruce started, searching for a lie, but knowing that his son was far too smart to be fooled so easily. 

“Grown up stuff. Boring grown up stuff.” Tony spat out. “So boring that it made daddy start yelling because, uh, he was so… Bored.” 

Axel stared at them incredulously for a long moment, brows furrowed before turning slightly back toward the door, eyes narrowed in disbelief but deciding not to push the matter further. “You guys are weird.”

 

\----

 

The pregnancy hadn’t been quite so eventful as the first one. 

There were no triplets inside of him, the risks a bit lower, even despite his age. There was only one, a little girl, just a little behind the growth curve, just a little small, but oh, how quickly he had fallen in love with her. Even tucked away beneath the surface, he had fallen so in love, all over again. 

The good parts were still there. The first quickenings of life, felt sooner than he’d felt the triplets, feeling the little kicks and movements at fifteen weeks. His bump didn’t form quite as quickly, and the changes were less drastic, but they were still there, and they were still savored. And then there was the sex - oh, the sex. The way that Tony handled him was so much different when he was pregnant, holding him with the reverence of a god. The sex was almost enough to reduce him to nothing more than the stereotypical idea of what an omega was supposed to be, perpetually knocked up and carrying his alpha’s brood.

Of course, it wasn’t _that_ good, but in the throes of his orgasm, he couldn’t say that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. 

There were parts that were simply different, too. Throughout his first pregnancy, there was rest, peace, a certain settlement between the two of them. A certain quiet. Throughout the second, life hardly slowed. With three kids, life _couldn't_ slow. He had family beyond his alpha, responsibility outside of growing the child inside of him. It complicated things. It made things that much more hectic. But somehow, through it, he knew peace. 

The triplets didn’t seem to understand when they told them that they were expecting another baby. For so long, it had just been them. The Big Three, and no one else. Telling them, at the turn of his second trimester, just as a bump was beginning to form, had been the hardest part of the entire ordeal. Aileen went silent, simply opting to walk to her bedroom, hiding herself up there at some perceived betrayal. Patrick seemed to find fear in it, and Axel seemed to find rage. That night had been one full of tears, and heartache, and something resembling regret. 

Patrick’s fear came in strongest, though he was the easiest to persuade. He always had been easier than the other two, more affectionate, understanding love perhaps better than any of them. His fears had tumbled from trembling lips, confessions coming in the form of sobs into the omega’s chest for hours. He had friends in foster care, friends who looked like him, friends who perhaps came from the same places as him, but had been swept down vastly different paths. He recounted stories of the friend who had been taken in by a family before that family had a baby of their own, sent away at the birth of their own child. Patrick’s story had never been a secret to him, knowing that they had taken him home after the loss of their third. Something had triggered the fear that, with the arrival of a third of their own, he would be sent away. Bruce came with reassurances and vows, though, swearing that Patrick was his son, and would always be his son, no matter what additions came to their little family. 

Aileen perceived betrayal at the news. Changes were never something that she had dealt well with, refusing to even enter the living room for weeks after remodelling when she was six. The addition of another felt like a betrayal, as if they had done this simply to turn their dynamic on its head, as if it was done merely to spite her. But if there was one thing that conquered her fear of change, it was her need for affection. Aileen had been quiet, eternally struggling among her peers. Autism, Bruce had figured. Love didn’t come easily, and if there was one thing that she had learned, it was that it certainly didn’t come free. It wasn’t hard to persuade her that the change was worth what would come after. In the coming years, as the baby grew to a child, love would follow with it. It was a concept that Aileen would grow to understand, he was certain, but until then, his persuasion came in the promises of someone who would always be there to listen to her ramblings and info-dumping. And hesitantly, she accepted. 

Axel was the hardest to persuade, the hardest to understand. He sulked in silence for nearly a week before even speaking to any of them on the matter. Even then, when he spoke, it came in spite, in rage, and in hatred for what was happening. It took weeks for the boy to open up, to finally say what was bothering him, but Bruce finally understood when he broke down in a fit of rage. Aileen had been sitting on Tony’s lap, Patrick curled up next to Bruce on the couch, leaving Axel without a seat next to his fathers. Such accidental slights sent him into a fit of rage and tears, crying out in agony. He was constantly fighting for affection, for attention. A baby was just another battle for him to fight. Tight hugs from all of them were all that brought him down, promises made to never let him feel unwanted, or underappreciated, or anything less than adored. 

It was that night that everything got easier. It was that night that the Big Three fell in love with the sixth addition of their little family, fell in love with their little sister. It was that night, arms thrown around each other, that she could be felt kicking, moving and jostling within his womb. Little hands pressed curiously against his gravid belly, feeling gently as their sister moved inside of him. It was that night that something shifted, that night that fear and betrayal and rage were cast aside and overcome by the one thing more powerful than any of it. _Love._

There was one other difference, though, that Bruce appreciated the most. 

His water broke at forty weeks and three days, three days overdue. He didn't dare push it, didn't dare make any attempts at induction. The baby would come when she was ready, and not a moment sooner. At the beginning of his labor, Tony moved him to the tub that they had set up a few days prior. Shuri came and picked up the kids for the night, as she always did, and Dr. Stephen Strange came to assist in the birth. There was not panic, there was not fear.

Eight hours in labor. Long hours, painful, sure. The blood filled the bathwater and the pain intense, but fear never crossed his mind as the course of labor progressed until it came time to deliver. She came from his body, into the water, to be cut free from him and hoisted straight into his arms, placed immediately against his chest. 

The birth of his triplets had been traumatizing. To feel one being born, to hear distant cries and to not be able to sooth them. To feel the life drain from body and mind as the chaos ensued. To fall into the black with three children and awake with two. To fall apart so entirely before finding strength again. The entire experience had been a trauma, but the thing that he had regretted most was missing their first moments in the world. He hadn’t been there to welcome them home, hadn’t been there to settle them, hadn’t been there to cradle them. It took far too long to be reunited with them, to hold them in his arms, to feel skin against skin, to bond with his children. But Amelia, she was placed on his chest the moment she came out of the water, quiet and breathing and warm and his, leaving him in awe of her, gasping for breath in her magnificence. 

He was surrounded by his family, the Avengers all come to witness, to support. But in that moment, there was no one but her. There was none but the daughter who he had carried inside of him for the past nine months. There was none but the little life that he cradled gently in his arms. 

Stephen took her from him after the initial touch, the moment ending as he slowly returned to the real world. The place between his thighs still burned, stretched and sore and aching. His chest was sore with the milk building up beneath, body knowing instinctively that his child had been born and was in need of sustenance. His entire body felt as if the life had been sucked from him, leaving him a heap of weary bones as Tony curled his arms tightly around his arms, pressing his lips against his sweaty forehead, whispering words of praise and adoration and pride. 

Tony helped him to his feet, steadying him on shaking knees, barely able to stand. He pulled him from the tub and wiped him down, cleaning him off before guiding him to the bed and tucking him in, offering him warmth and rest before Stephen returned with a cleaned and swaddled baby, returning her to his arms as Tony curled in the bed next to him. 

Bruce didn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t look away from the child in his arms, mesmerized by her, enraptured, in love. There was intimacy, quiet, peace beyond anything that he had ever known before. 

Shuri brought the Big Three back to him the next morning. Patrick and Axel leapt onto the bed next to him, curious eyes scanning over their newborn sister. Aileen stayed perched on Tony’s shoulders, clinging to her father as he brought her over to the bed, the six of them curled in a mess of sheets.

A home had been built for them, forged from sweat and blood and stone. A home had been found here, where home had been nothing more than a foreign idea before. Here there was peace, and love, and family. They had vowed to build a home, and it was precisely what they had done. Looking around, finding the place in the doorway where heights had been measured, finding the corner of the room where he had given Patrick his name, finding the hooks in the walls where Christmas lights had been strung up, Bruce took pride in what they had created, in what they had built from the foundations of the earth. 

There is a house built out of stone. Wooden floors, walls, and window sills. Tables and chairs worn by dust. This was the place where they didn’t have to feel alone.

**Author's Note:**

> That's all folks


End file.
